Go
by Toblerone
Summary: AU, but the concept is the same – manticore, Eyes Only, the fight for love and survival blah blah woof woof. very much ML. made some edits, plan to make some more soon. I don't know what I am going to do with this story, I had such great plans. sigh.
1. The Difference

Disclaimer: okay ummm... I wish I owned dark angel but unfortunately, I don't. Fox and a bunch of other stupid people do. Damn them.

Rating: R

Spoilers: none, this is a complete AU, but the concept is the same - manticore, escapees, chance meetings, and the fight for survival blah blah woof woof.

Okay here goes nothing...

* * *

The stinging cold of the ice against bare feet had long since faded into numbness.

The sounds of dogs barking and the commanding shouts of the Colonel could no longer be heard.

The fence was far behind, and everything familiar had vanished, but still the running did not cease.

Escape and evade, never underestimate the enemy, just when you think you're safe they can sneak up on you.

Lessons taught long ago reverberated in it's brain and the instinct – the instinct of a solider trying to assess the situation – the instinct of an animal fleeing for its life – long thought dead, was suddenly alive and well. Fear was threatening to sneak in with instinct but that was unacceptable, it had always been, even after the isolation, the tests, and the nomlies.

So the running continued as the it remembered first hearing the word... nomlies... nomlie... the it had never bothered to name them when it had been training, it had never needed to, the it had rarely ever seen them. It had only been allowed to see the Colonel when he was drilling the it, and the scientists when they poked and prodded at it – trying to find out why it was only one that had survived. There had been others like the it, that much had been established, the Colonel had mused in his weaker moments how powerful a whole group of them could have been.

However the Colonel rarely allowed himself to be so weak, so it alone was trained. To be the smartest, the strongest, and the best. The best soldier. Ever. That ever was, that ever would be... or so at least that's what it had thought.

But it seemed that it's time with the Colonel and the scientists was not to last. It had seemed long - after all, the training had begun only a few weeks after its birth. Everything it had ever known was Manticore. It was strange, the it wasn't really sure what Manticore really was. It seemed, in it's mind, to be thing giant looming figure that watched and controlled over all it's actions and thoughts. Manticore's will was carried out though the Colonel, and through it. But then abruptly and without warning there was a change. Manticore, in all it's glory, no longer needed or wanted it. The it was thrown into a damp dirty cell – so different from the sterile bunker of the it's past – and was henceforth a reject, an extra...thing...in the basement. From then on, its life had been spent with the nomlies – it had become a nomlie after the births.

The births of the X-5 series.

They had surpassed all of the Colonel's and the scientists' hopes - they had surpassed all of the its abilities.

So after that it was no longer a soldier, it no longer had a designation. It became a nameless it, a nomlie. It was only taken out of its cell to be experimented on, to test new genetically engineered diseases, or new torture devises.

It remembered first seeing its successors through the bars of its cell in the basement. The Colonel was marching them down the hallway, as he had done with it once, long ago. He had stopped them there and left for some reason, perhaps to go talk to one of the guards further down the hallway, or perhaps to send a silent warning to them all.

They had looked at its neighbors with frightened, yet determined faces. It remained hidden in the shadows, not to be seen.

"What are they?" one of them dared to whisper.

"Nomlies," another one whispered back.

"Why are they here Ben?" Ben? A curious designation.

"They were bad soldiers," It was outraged, it had never been a bad soldier, it had always been good. How dare they make such accusations?

The nomlie in the cell next to the its cell shot out an arm at them suddenly. And although the nomlie did not reach them, one of them let out a small scream and jumped back.

"Hush Jondy!" one of the older X5s said to the one that had screamed.

"But Zack-"

"But nothing," He said sternly, "a solder fears nothing, now get back in line."

The one called Jondy had complied, but she still eyed the cells around her warily. The it was left wondering about the odd designations they called each other.

As it was musing about this, it felt odd and realized that there was a pair of eyes watching it and turned to see which one was staring.

A smaller X-5 was watching it. The X-5 was obviously one of the younger one's, and had big brown eyes that stared right into its own green orbs. It could not help but stare back, almost trapped in the gaze.

"X5-452! Eyes front!" The Colonel's thunderous, commanding voice broke the stare between it and the brown eyed X-5.

"Sir! Yes sir!" The brown eyed X-5 had shouted, as the it realized that the small X-5 must have been the one called 452. The Colonel turned around and looked it right in the face and growled "get down from whatever it is your standing on," and with that he slammed a fist against the bars. It stumbled off the bucket it had used to be tall enough to peer through the bars, and landed with a thump on the hard concrete floor.

It had seen the X-5s only a few more times after that. Sometimes, when the guards dragged it to the labs, it would glance into the workout rooms and see them. Often they would be sparing. Jondy and X5-452 would often be together, the one called Zack always close by - watching over all the X5s. They were a mystery, all of them; the way they acted around each other, the way they worked together, and the way they looked out for each other. This must have been what the Colonel had wanted, it had thought, the Colonel had wanted more... more soldiers, more drones, working in tandem. But the others had died - it was the only survivor of it's kind, a single drone, useless and disappointing.

In the end it was the tests that finally made it decide to escape. The never ending, ever changing torture that was the tests

The Knives, the needles, the tubes, the wires, the straps, the tables, the metal, the cold, the heat, the electricity, the masks, the goggles, the guards, the scientists... and the Colonel.

There had to be something better than all the tests, it knew, somehow it knew that there must have been something outside the thick concrete walls. Something more then the gray, chrome, and red.

Even if it had never seen anything, even if it had never been given any proof - it knew there had to be something out there.

Something...

Anything...

There was a life out there, a life that could be it's own, if only it could escape.

The scientists and guards left sometimes. They always came back, but every once and a while they would leave, and the Colonel never even tried to stop them. They were allowed to leave as long as they came back, which they always did. But, where did they go? What was this place beyond the barbed wire? This place that put the color back into their faces.

If it ever got beyond the wire it knew it would never come back.

It would die before it ever went back.

The escape wasn't planned, it just happened. The guards weren't paying attention and the gleaming window was unbarred. It was an opportunity, and the Colonel always commanded that opportunities were to be seized, by any means necessary. So it ran and jumped and crashed and landed and then ran again and kept running.

It hadn't thought the Colonel would chase after it, the Colonel had never cared before, why should he care now? So it ran, even after the sounds of dogs and guards came, it ran closer and closer to the gate. Ignoring the cold, ignoring the snapping of twigs and ice beneath its feet, ignoring the fear, and ignoring the voices in its head telling it to turn back – it ran.

It ran like hell.

The gate was in sight when suddenly it was tackled to the ground. It fought blindly, franticly - wanting only to get away - but the attacker had the upper hand – she was recently trained and less panicked. The attacker had it pinned to the ground when it finally caught a glimpse of the face - the eyes. Brown eyes, deep, soulful, and familiar.

452 was smaller than it was but she still strong, she had been made that way.

Her face changed as she looked into its eyes.

"Its you," she whispered.

"Its you," it whispered back as 452 got off it and back away a little - holding her gun up.

Her face looked odd for a moment, and it wondered what the expression meant. 452 lowered her gun and whispered something much unexpected.

"Go"

"What?" it whispered back, surprised.

"Go... before the rest come."

"You'll shoot me if I run"

"No I won't! Now go, quickly!"

She shot a warning shot into the trees when it failed to comply.

"They'll be here in any moment now. You have to go!"

"Why are you letting me?"

"I don't know. Now run before they catch you!"

It didn't hesitate after that and took off towards the gate and climbed to the top of the fence and dropped down to the other side. It looked back to see 452 still there.

'Go' she mouthed and it took off running as fast as possible.

It didn't stop, just kept going, and kept running, even after all signs of a threat were gone. It didn't want to stop, it wanted to run in the open space forever, run in the woods and snow, it had run past the ends of its world long ago, and now the only place to go was forward.

Soon enough though, a structure came into sight, small and wooden. It stopped, unsure what to do, and stood there trying to think of what the Colonel would have said about this particular situation. 'After escaping from the enemy fortress, find a way to communicate with home base and find shelter.' Well, home base and the enemy fortress happened to be one in the same, so all that was left was to find shelter and there it was.

It started towards the structure slowly, still uneasy about the situation. The windows in the structure were lit up and a warm inviting glow illuminated from them.

It was close to the door, when suddenly it opened and a female figure appeared. It froze in place, every part of its training forgotten at the sight of this female dressed so oddly, no white lab coat, or military fatigues or anything it had ever seen. The colors she wore were so different compared to the black, white, and gray it was used to. Her facial expression was odd - not like the expression 452 had made - it was surprised, but then warm and inviting and like nothing it had ever experienced before.

"Are you lost little boy?" she asked in a soft tone.

It shook its head, but then nodded - unsure how to respond.

The female took in its appearance: the blue, bare feet, and the old, torn shirt and pants. The same clothes it had worn since the Colonel had thrown it into its cell for the first time, so long ago.

"Do you want to come inside, honey?" It stared at her, confused. It had never been called honey before, could she be confusing it with someone she knew?

"I'm not honey," It clarified.

The women made an odd noise and another strange face at its comment, causing it to become even more confused.

"Why don't you come inside?" she asked as she extended a hand to it. It looked at the hand for a moment, and then extended its own and the woman took it and led it inside.

The structure was very warm inside, and there it found another person, a male who made a face similar to the one the female was making. The female gestured for it to sit on the chair next to the male, and when it complied she gave the male a look and they left the room and went into another one. It watched them leave, and frowned. Were they reporting him back to home base? Were they agents for the Colonel? It looked around at the new setting; it could not see how anyone living in a dwelling like this could be associated with the Colonel in any way.

The room was very colorful, there three bright red – not like blood – stuffed chairs, images surrounded in wood and glass hung on the walls, a whole in the wall with a fire inside, and colored rectangles of fabric underneath pieces of wooden tables and desks. The whole place was strange... and yet oddly comforting.

The male and the female reentered the room and sat in the stuffed chairs across from it. They looked at each other nervously, (a familiar expression, finally) and seemed unsure what to say to it... finally the male took a deep breath and began to speak to it.

"What's you're name?" the male asked in a soft voice

It thought for a moment, remembering what the nomlie Joshua, who had snuck him food on occasion, had told it about names and designations. "Names and designations different," he had said, "Names better, names unique,"

"My name is..." it hesitated, remembering, "Logan,"

Yes, that was right, that's what Joshua had called him.

"Logan, huh?" the male said.

"Yes," he replied, "My name is Logan"


	2. Unrealized Reunion

Disclaimer: oh, what a joy it would be to own such a lovely thing, to be able to shape and form the lives of Max and Logan the way I wish. (sigh) but alas I do not own dark angel and I therefore must disclaim that dark angel and its characters and such do not belong to me, have never belonged to me, and will never belong to me. (pain sigh) life is so cruel.

Authors note: last chapter took place in 2007 when Logan escaped, two years before Max and her familia - this chapter takes place in 2019 twelve years after Logan's escape. Logan was 13 when he escaped.

Authors note again: okay people here is the thing, I had read somewhere when dark angel season one was going on, that Logan was 25 years old in the story, even though the actor that portrayed him was at the time in fact 32 years old, and from then on I had always thought of Logan being 25. Therefore, whether or not Logan was intended to be 32 years old in the tv show, he is 25 in my story. Max is nineteen.

Authors note for the third time: umm yeah, I know that Logan's eyes are really sorta of greenish, but everyone always describes them as blue, and I'm a follower not a leader. Also, the dialogue in this is similar to pilot but not exactly - I changed a few things for my own evil purposes - some of the dialogue is mine, some are from the website, and I'm not ripping it off of anyone intentionally.

* * *

MAX (voiceover): The escape was not my idea. I mean...escape to what? We didn't know anything else. It was Zack who said we had to leave. So, I guess he saved my life. I didn't think we should separate. But he wouldn't listen. And I never even got a chance to thank him... or the other one... the non-nomlie. I guess that's maybe where Zack got it from, the whole escape thing... wonder what happed to him...whatever...Sometimes it seems like it happened to someone else. Like maybe it was a story I heard. The hardest part is not knowing if any of the others made it. But if I knew for sure I was the only one left it would be worse. At least now I can make up lives for them-- like maybe Jondy's a fashion photographer or an architect... but the truth is, they'd be just like me, living on the run always looking over my shoulder. Hope is for losers. It's a con job people trip behind till they finally get a grip on the cold, hard truth. Still, I hope that they're out there somewhere and that they're okay... All of them

* * *

The Building had been easy to get into, leave it to the richest people in Seattle to leave their skylights unlocked.

(Idiots)

She crept soundlessly down the hallway of the highly furnished penthouse, cautiously stalking towards her prize. The place was beautiful, a tribute to pre-pulse luxuries. With clean wooden floors, comfortable looking stuffed sofas, painted walls, big glass windows that didn't have any cracks – It was the kind of place people dreamed about, it even had heating. She'd glanced into a spotless kitchen before, a real kitchen! Complete with a spiffy stove and refrigerator that looked like they actually might work, hell, the sink probably even had hot water. (What I wouldn't give to have access to this bastard's bath)

There was a lot of fancy expensive art crap in the apartment, priceless abstract paintings, incredible still-lives – you name it this guy had it. However, nothing in the apartment seemed to compare to the little statue that had brought Max here in the first place. Bast. The Egyptian cat goddess; a protector, and destroyer in one. She sat upon her throne on top of her glowing stand looking all majestic and powerful... The Egyptians sure thought she was one bad-ass cat. But then again the Egyptians seemed to have a thing for all cats.

(Wonder what they'd think of me) Max thought to herself with a smirk, as she removed Bast from her shining alter. (Sorry kitty but you're coming with me)

She placed the statue in the bag she brought with her, and began to sneak back to the sky light, but froze when she heard an all too familiar voice coming from down the hallway.

"Do not attempt to adjust your set..." (Oh, you have got to be kidding me) "...This is a streaming freedom video. Eyes Only cannot be bought or threatened and through the eyes only informant net a truth-speaker has come forward." (Well, this should turn out to be... interesting)

She peeked through the doorway into room from which the voice had come from, and found herself staring at an assortment of high-tec computers, recording equipment, and the back of the notorious cyber hacker whom Sketchy so admired.

"The testimony of one fearless witness will soon lead to the indictment of Edgar Sonrisa for multiple counts of murder. The drug cortodiazapine is expensive, in short supply and much sought after as a cancer treatment. It is also the only effective treatment for the Balkan War Syndrome, an otherwise fatal disease..."

She stared at the infamous red white and blue banner that flashed around the eyes that had always seemed so familiar to her, and then turned her attention to the screen next to it. Which was the same except it lacked the banner.

"--but that doesn't stop Edgar Sonrisa from growing richer, peddling the drug to the few who can afford to pay any price for vanity's sake..."

Max once again felt the odd feeling of remembrance she experienced every time she looked into the deep blue eyes that flashed from the fuzzy Jam Pony TV screen. The feeling was stronger than ever now that she saw the man's whole face, and that startled her.

"Sonrisa has been replacing shipments with sugar pills, selling the real cortodiazapine on the Canadian black market for $2,000 a bottle while combat vets exposed to bio-war agents go untreated…"

She looked to the back of the man's neck, and was both relieved and disappointed to see that there were no dark lines that would have told her that they were manufactured by the same twisted toy-soldier makers.

"All over this city they are repaid for defending this country by being allowed to waste away and die a slow, agonizing death."

Max was jolted out of her wonderings by the sound of heavy footsteps, which were way to close to her position. She hurried away from the source of the steps and ducked into the first room she saw.

(Oh, Shit)

The women looked up from the book she had been reading to the young girl who lay on the bed next to her, and got up from the bed in alarm. "I won't hurt you," Max said, in attempt to keep the woman from yelling, but it was too late, the women shouted for help and sure enough a gorilla of a body guard showed up in the doorway. (Well, this is just peachy) Max thought as she dodged a bullet, quickly disarmed the apeman of his gun, almost effortlessly knocked him unconscious, and sprinted back towards the skylight.

"Put it down now!" yelled a voice a voice from behind. Max sighed as she dropped her loot bag and turned around to face none other that Mr. Eyes Only himself holding a gun on her.

* * *

"Lauren...you and Sophy okay?" Logan asked looking into the room where his new informant and her daughter were staying.

"Yeah...we're okay." Logan nodded and then looked around with alarm, "Peter!" He yelled looking for his friend fearing the worst.

"If he's the side of beef, he's fine, but give him a minute." Logan looked back at the intruder he had his gun pointed at and nearly gasped. There before him stood what had to be the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. (Who also just happened to get into your penthouse undetected) he reminded himself, (keep your head in the game soldier). He took in her appearance, analyzing the threat. A cat suit, and a loot bag...

"You're a thief?" he asked, giving her a serious look.

"Girl's got to make a living." She replied with a smirk.

"Thank God."

She raised her eyebrows in surprise, "First time I ever heard that one."

"I was expecting someone else."

"Guess it wasn't the pizza delivery guy."

Logan smiled, "We're just a little tense right now."

Logan glanced down at the partially open bag she had dropped. Recognizing his Bast statue, he was relieved it hadn't broken when she'd dropped it, however he was intrigued her chosen item of theft.

"You have good taste," He commented, "French, 1920s, a tribute to Chitarus."

"Whoever that is," She replied.

"Oh." He frowned, disappointed "So... What, you liked it 'cause it was shiny?"

"No, because it's the Egyptian goddess Bast, the goddess who comprehends all goddesses, eye of Ra, protector, avenger, destroyer...giver of life who lives forever. I could keep going..."

A groan came from somewhere and Logan looked at the side of the hallway to see Peter straggling towards them, rubbing his ribs. Peter looked up and looked at Logan holding up a gun, aimed at the girl who had knocked him unconscious. Logan watched Peter look the thief up and down, no doubt wondering how she had managed to overpower him. Logan was wondering that himself.

"Stay back Peter," Logan warned, but it was too late, he had already advanced towards the thief, handcuffs ready.

But the thief was too fast for Peter and before Logan could do anything she had Peter by the wrist, forming a barrier between herself and Logan's gun.

"Security's on the way." Gasped Peter, obviously in extreme pain, "Fuck," he cursed loudly, "My wrist is gonna snap!"

"That could happen," said the thief easing her way backwards, Peter always a barrier between her and Logan.

(Security's here) The sound of foot steps suddenly flooding the hallway in front of his front door reached Logan's overly sensitive ears.

* * *

Max heard it too, "Well, I'd love to hang and discuss art all night, but I got to jet. By the way, I love your show."

There was the loud bang of metal hitting wood and Logan's door being banged open, and suddenly tons of security men rushed the apartment.

Max threw the bulky bodyguard into one of the rent-a-cops, and sprinted to the window, and then right through it. The glass shattered around her as she dived outwards.

"Hold your fire" she heard someone yell, but it didn't matter, she was already gone. She landed gracefully on a lower balcony and looked up to see Eyes Only staring down at her. She paused only for a moment, to gaze into those mesmerizing eyes once more.

Then she ran.

* * *

The night had been exhausting, to say the least.

Right after she had returned home from adventure with Seattle's richest super hero, she experienced one of the most intense seizers of her life, not mention the nightmares... but those were nothing new...

Max sighed as she got up from bed and headed towards the kitchen for some coffee.

(Exhausting and pointless) This morning she was no better off than before she had snuck into that god forsaken penthouse. She still had no money for Vogelsang.

Max groaned as she walked into the living room and saw that once again Kendra's panties were hanging off her motorcycle.

"Kendra, this is a motorcycle. Its sole reason for being is to go fast, very fast. Not for you to use as a clothesline. Now, make no mistake. I love you as a friend and a roommate, but I love my motorcycle more. Stay away from the bike, okay?"

Kendra rolled her eyes and was about answer when suddenly an all too familiar old fat annoying police officer burst into the apartment.

"Ladies..." he said by way of greeting.

"Morning Walter, what's the good word," Max said in a surprisingly sweet tone that made Kendra look at her in surprise.

"Oh just doing my part to keep the squatter situation out of hand,"

"Mm. Coffee?" Kendra kept her curious looks to herself this time, deciding to ask Max about her behavior later, and left the room.

"Read my mind. You notice any trespassers around here?"

"Gosh, no."

Kendra returned to the room – envelope in hand which she held out to Walter, who gave her only a smile in return and then turned to leave the apartment.

"Seventh floor vacant and secure," he said into his walkie talkie as he walked towards the door.

"Roger that." Came the fuzzy reply

"Enjoy your day."

Kendra and Max closed the door behind him, glad to rid of him for at least another week

"What's with you?" Kendra asked looking at Max in confusion, "Every week this scumbag puts the squeeze on us and every week you roll out the welcome wagon like he's family."

"Just thought maybe he'd like some coffee with his saliva."

Kendra gave Max a devious smile, "You didn't!"

"Every week," Max said with a smirk.

* * *

Max frowned as she looked down at her sick co-worker and friend.

"I know what I got, Max. They put me back on that drug they're giving the other vets. Only the guy that does those cable hacks says this stuff's no good."

She scowled now, angry with the truth behind everyone's favorite cable hacker. If the bastard was so damn rich, why didn't he use that money to buy people food or something, instead of just sitting in his high tower typing on his stupid computer?

"Don't believe everything you hear on TV."

"What if he's on the level?"

"The dealio on Eyes Only - he's probably some wack rich dude sitting in a trick apartment bored stupid. So he gets off scaring the crap out of folks like you and me. I got to go."

"Tell everybody hey."

* * *

"Bingo." Logan smiled, it had taken him a long time, but he had found her.

"What do you got?" Peter asked looking over his shoulder.

"Surveillance video from the building next door. I figure this is how our visitor last night got in." Logan examined the tape, and stared at the thief's face, his mind far away.

Peter noticed the look, "We trying to ID the perp or your new girlfriend?"

Logan frowned looking up at Peter in annoyance, "If I just got my ass handed to me by a size three I might be inclined to mind my own business."

He returned his gaze to the computer, searching for more information. Peter was right though, he had let his mind wander in dangerous directions... but if this girl was who he thought she was... then he knew that he'd better forget those thoughts altogether.

* * *

"I'm looking for a young lady who works here,"

Regan "Ray" Ronald (6'1, blond hair, brown eyes, single, 34 years old, enjoys candlelight dinners and discussing great works of literature with intelligent and beautiful individuals... or at least according to his F.B.I. file) glanced up from his clip board for a fraction of a second and took Logan in, "Ladies would be elsewhere."

Logan sighed and held up the picture he had copied from the surveillance video.

The man glanced at the photo and then back at Logan with an almost pitying look.

"Look, pal, she may be easy on the eyes but she's trouble...trust me,"

"Yo, Normal," yelled someone taking the man's attention away from Logan, "Hot run, 1298 Chapel!"

"I need to talk to her,"

"I can't help you, man,"

"How about a name and address," Logan smiled holing out a crisp, new hundred dolor bill under the man's nose.

* * *

The bar was noisy and dirty, the overwhelming smell of beer and pot was driving Logan insane – his super sense of smell was too super sometimes. No one in the bar seemed to be over the age twenty-five, it was possible that Logan was the oldest person in the whole place.

She wasn't hard to spot (the most beautiful woman in the– Stop it. Keep your head in the game). The bartender knew her and pointed her out, she was playing foosball and obviously winning, the woman across from didn't seem to be trying anymore. Logan tuned out the sounds of the bar and focused his attention on the conversation she was having with her friend.

"They're prisoners of their genes,"

"So are dogs. I say hang Sketch out to dry. Let Natalie see him for the heel he is. Then, maybe she'll step to the all-girl team."

"Of course, there's nothing self-serving in that scenario."

He must have stared for too long because she looked over at that moment and caught him. Deciding he might as well use the direct approach, he walked over to her.

"So this guy walks into a bar and says..."

"We didn't get a chance to finish our conversation the other night"

He smiled and she smiled back.

"Original Cindy say hi to my good friend-"

"Logan Cale,"

Original Cindy eyed the pair, noting how even when Max "introduced" him, their eyes never left each other.

"Hey,"

They both ignored her

"Sorry about your window," Max said

He smiled, "can we go somewhere to talk?"

"Well look, Xena's on," Cindy said, taking a hinting and stepping out of the picture.

"Let me get my coat,"

"The one you're wearing," this guy didn't miss a beat.

Max looked down at herself, "Right."

(well, well, well, sistah girl found a man dat makes her forget she's wearing clothes, this could be fun)

* * *

The street was empty, save a few cars and garbage cans. They walked in silence for a little while, escaping the noise of the bar. It was surprisingly quiet, there weren't any sirens blaring, or yelling, or glass breaking. It was nice.

Logan looked down at her and for the second time in his life was, again, taken aback by how beautiful she was. Her skin, her hair, her eyes, he felt drawn to her, felt as if he had met her before, a long time ago. He gazed at her for a moment, but then stopped himself – her perfection was all the more evidence pointing to his theory of her origin.

"How'd you find me?" She asked suddenly looking up at him curiously.

He shrugged "Wasn't hard,"

"Question is, why?"

"You know who I am, where I live. I figured I'd better find out who I'm dealing with in case you were looking to hurt me."

"So you tracked me down. What do you think?" she asked.

"Too early to tell,"

She smiled and they were both quiet again.

She frowned for a moment and looked at him, "How does Mrs. Eyes Only like being married to a guy on everybody's hit list,"

"Lauren's not my wife,"

"Girlfriend?" (what does it matter, do you really want to get involved with him? - He's sorta cute. - think logically, he's Eyes freaking Only - yeah, too much of a risk, too bad) Max though, mentally sighing.

"One of my sources. Her husband was murdered by a man named Edgar Sonrisa," Logan confirmed, oblivious to Max's silent decision.

"I caught your hack." She said in a knowing tone, "He's Satan's lapdog or something... But what's your shot in all this? I mean being a famous, underground, pirate cyber-journalist can't be much of a payday."

"I inherited a lot of money," he said looking away his eyes distant.

She watched him for a moment, "So what, you just like the sound of your own voice?"

"Look around at all this. Built by people who got up every morning worked hard trying to make a better life." He said in an almost awed voice, "Then the pulse happened and everyone got scared. They blinked and before they knew it they turned over the store to a bunch of thugs who were happy to take it off their hands. Overnight, the government, the police everything intended to protect the people had been turned against them."

"So you miss the good old days. Even though there were still poor people who died from diseases when they didn't need to and rich people who still spent obscene amounts of money redecorating the house to match the cat. Those good old days?"

"Even if they took it for granted, they still had a choice. Now they don't"

"So, what are you going to do about it."

"Something,"

They started walking again, Logan was quiet and Max thoughtful.

"Personally, I'm more interested in going fast on my motorcycle than giving myself a headache over stuff I can't do anything about,"

"You accept things the way they are, then you're an active participant in making things worse," Logan said angrily.

"Is social studies class over for today?" Max asked in an agitated tone.

"Yeah," he said, changing gears, not wanting to scare her off, "That was an extraordinary display of athleticism the other night, a little too extraordinary-" he stopped and listened, hearing the low whine of a hover-drone's engine he grabbed Max's arm and pulled her into the nearest alleyway.

They stood in the alleyway, listening as the hover-drone moved away from them.

Logan sighed with relief as the hover-drone moved away from them in the other direction.

He continued where he left off, still watching the sky, "You want to tell me how-" he stopped himself, looking around.

Max was gone.

(Figures)

* * *

"So you have fun with Mr. Logan Cale Last night?"

Max sighed rolling her eyes, "Nothing happened OC,"

"Oh, really," Original Cindy raised her eyebrows as she leaned against her locker, "then how come you never came back to Crash, last night." Cindy asked in a knowing tone.

"I went home,"

"Oh no you didn't, Original Cindy called Kendra to check up on her girl, and she hadn't seen you since you left for work dat morning."

"I went for a ride on my bike first."

"Um hm, or you went for a ride with your new boy toy,"

"Cindy, he is not my boy toy, nor will he ever be my boy toy. In fact, I don't think I'm ever going to see him again,"

"Do you want to see him again?"

Max paused, and stared at her locker, thinking. She did want to see him again.

"I have to go find Sketchy," she said, avoiding the question and Original Cindy's knowing eyes.

"Who do you think your kidding girl, Original Cindy saw the way you two stared at each other, you couldn't keep your eyes off each other, hell, Original Cindy could've grabbed sketchy and started making out with him right in front of you, and you wouldn't have noticed,"

"What's this about you making out with me?" Sketchy appeared out of nowhere and gave Cindy a supposedly sexy look.

"In your dreams fool," Cindy said as she hit him over the head.

"Sketchy, go sit over there I'll be with you in a minute," Max pointed over to the Jam-pony entrance, and gave him a look, "Cindy, if you ever make out with Sketchy, don't tell me about it, I think I'd die of shock and disgust. Wow, bad mental pictures, I think I'm gonna have nightmares now, thanks a lot."

"No problem boo, your hot boy can soothe away your fears," Cindy laughed and headed towards the front desk to get a package from Normal.

Max sighed and went over to help Sketchy clean up his mess.

* * *

She sighed as she took off her shirt and flopped down on to her bed.

(Why is Sketchy such a dumb ass?)

She closed her eyes and then sat up suddenly.

Bast, in all her shining glory, was sitting on her dirty table surveying her surroundings, looking like she owned the joint.

(Oh, now he's gonna get it)

"You ever notice how cats show up around dinner time?" Logan said without looking up, he had heard her come in and decided that he didn't feel like waiting for her to reveal herself.

"I won't be staying" Max said icily eyeing him with suspicion.

"I'm not a half bad cook," he said looking up at her, noting that she was wearing her tight cat-suit again.

Max didn't give him an inch, "Like following me around and pestering people I work with wasn't bad enough, but sneaking into my apartment?

"It was open," he told her matter-of-factly.

That pissed her off, "You've got a lot of nerve,"

"Me? You're the one who tried to rip off this place."

"I steal things in order to sell them for money, it's called commerce. But some stranger sneaking into a girl's apartment, that's bent."

"Bent?" he asked in amusement

"Bent,"

He shrugged, "I left you a present,"

"Am I supposed to be grateful?"

"That would not be inappropriate."

"How am I ever going to sleep there again, knowing stranger's probably touched everything I own?"

Logan gave her a brilliant smile, "Well if you're that nervous about it, you're welcome to stay here."

Suddenly Peter came out of nowhere, gun held up menacingly at Max

"Whoa there Tex," Max said backing away, but still ready to take him down if necessary.

"Peter," Logan walked up to him and grabbed his shoulder, "We've been through this, it's alright."

"She's a tactical exposure, which I go on the record as not liking," Peter hissed at Logan as Logan led away from Max.

The words tactical exposure hit Max hard, she had to figure out what this guy wanted and get the hell out of here.

"Noted, do me a favor and go check on Lauren and Sophie,"

Max wandered into the living room, taking notice of the wooden board over the window she had jumped through.

"Send me the bill for this by the way," she said, hearing Logan come up behind her.

He sighed, "Look if I made you nervous or uncomfortable or creeped you out- "

"Yes on all counts," she interrupted giving him a hard look.

"Well I'm sorry, it wasn't my intention... I had to see you," he told her, honestly.

"You'd think a guy who's taken on the job of saving the world would have a few more important things to do than traipse around after some girl."

"I haven't been able to get you off my mind,"

"You need to get out more,"

He smiled, "Come here I want to show you something,"

He led her over to a mirror and stood behind her, "American, neoclassic gold leaf detail, late 1800s. I could probably fence it for two or three grand."

He rolled his eyes, was that all she ever thought about? "No, I meant this," she looked into the mirror, realizing he meant her own reflection, "Probably the most singularly beautiful face I've ever seen."

Max resisted blushing and turned to look at him, "Expensive gifts, surprise late-night visits, over-the-top flattery. Do you always come on this strong? "

"Only when I meet someone I have to know everything about." He said as he moved her hair and realized exactly who she was.

* * *

Okay, next chapter Max learns who Logan really is and I get to actually write some of my own dialogue, YAY!


	3. Building A Mystery

Declaimer, I don't own dark angel, I'm using some of the characters and some of the dialogue  
  
Warning: there is some graphic descriptions in this, not the worst, but still graphic  
  
I'm going to skip scenes in this, so if you don't know the pilot that well, I suggest you look it up and read it, otherwise it won't make sense  
  
(thought) ~~~~~~~~ scene change, flashback  
  
I've changed some things, hope you don't mind  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Previously in Go:  
  
The stinging cold of the ice against bare feet had long since faded into numbness.  
  
The sounds of dogs barking and the commanding shouts of the Colonel could no longer be heard.  
  
The fence was far behind, and everything familiar had vanished  
  
"My name is....." it hesitated, remembering "Logan," that's what Joshua had called him.  
  
"Logan, huh?" the male said.  
  
"Yes," he replied, "My name is Logan"  
  
"You're a thief?" he asked, giving her a serious look.  
  
"Girl's got to make a living." She replied with a smirk.  
  
"Thank God."  
  
She raised her eyebrows in surprise, "First time I ever heard that one."  
  
"I was expecting someone else."  
  
"Guess it wasn't the pizza delivery guy."  
  
Max resisted blushing and turned to look at him, "Expensive gifts, surprise late-night visits, over-the-top flattery. Do you always come on this strong? "  
  
"Only when I meet someone I have to know everything about." He said as he moved her hair and realized exactly who she was.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
And now chapter three: Building A Mystery  
  
"And now I think I know pretty much everything. Suppose I could help you locate the other ones?" he said slightly backing away from her.  
  
"The other ones?" Max replied turning around and fallowing Logan's lead in making distance between them.  
  
"The other ones like you....." he said "the X5's" he added cautiously unsure of what or who she would consider 'like her'.... he wondered if he was in that category in her mind.... (doubtful, you're a nomlie, remember....)  
  
(......all too well)  
  
"You lost me," alarm bells went off in her head but she displayed no emotions. (assess the situation, this guy knows too much, form escape plan.... don't know how much he knows - he knows about 'the X5's' , that's enough it's time to haul ass out of here..... but the others.... how much does he really know.... I've got to find out)  
  
"Now, come on Max, who are you trying to fool? First I watch you take out a 250-pound ex-cop bodyguard without breaking a sweat. Then I watch you dive headfirst out a window like you're Rocky the flying squirrel." (She hasn't bolted yet, good sign, continue with caution)  
  
"Girls kick ass. Says so on the t-shirt" (could always dive headfirst out another window, but I need to find out how much he knows)  
  
He smiled, but chose to ignore the comment, "Then, I found these in your apartment." He held up the plastic container. He had known instantly what was in the bottle when he found it in her apartment, he knew exactly what a bottle of triptophan looked like - he needed to or he would die. People used to sell the stuff in health food stores as an energy boost, but he didn't need an energy boost..... He had enough trouble sleeping as it was.  
  
"You went through my stuff," (okay I was creeped out before, but this is ridiculous)  
  
"That's when the light bulb went off," he hadn't been surprised when he'd found the triptophan. A majority of the X5's had been born with the same neural condition as him, their condition was less severe then his own, but their seizers had been more frequent. It had pissed the hell out of The Colonel; he was probably embarrassed that he'd made the same mistake twice. He'd had one of the geneticists killed and he had taken out the rest of his anger out on Logan - by beating the shit out of him and using him as a guinea pig for the drugs and surgery they would develop, before trying it out on the X5's.  
  
Max had had enough, "Look, I don't know what kind of game you're playing here, but I'm out, because you're a wack-job"  
  
So had Logan, "Don't play games with me 452,"  
  
That freaked Max out, she hadn't been called her number designation in a long time, and she knew none of her siblings would call her that.... Who the fuck was this guy.... Well, Max wasn't going to wait around to be knocked out and wake up in a lab to find out.  
  
She threw a punch; it hit him square in the jaw. Logan stumbled, he hadn't expected a blow to the face. His face ached, that was dumb, ('expected the unexpected solider'). (Damned voice in my head, can't just shut the hell up)  
  
She threw another punch, but he blocked it. She brought her leg up to kick him, faster than humanly possible, but again her attack was blocked. They backed away from each other, both in the signature Manticore fighting stance.  
  
She studied him, searching for weaknesses, waiting for the bump into a piece of furniture, the faint turn of the head hearing a noise, the slightly off balance step. It didn't come, so she decided to take matters into her own hand. She came at him, a blur of punches and kicks he met her attack, matching her every move, blocking as well as hitting in turn. If Peter or Lauren or anybody who wasn't made in a lab with genetically enhanced vision was to come out into the middle of this battle, all they would only see two dark blurs kicking the crap out of each other.  
  
Caught up in the fight Logan almost allowed himself to forget about the alliance he had been trying to form, it was exhilarating, facing an opponent who could match him blow for blow. He hadn't fought anyone like that for a long time, not since manticore, not since that fateful night when he had been pinned to the ground by the girl he was facing now. The majority of the thugs he had come into contact with over the past few years had usually been all brawn and no brain, thinking steroids and pumping up at the gym could make them powerful. But this women wasn't a thug, or a mob boss, or any of the other usual suspects, this was 452 - the gatekeeper in front of the exit of hell that had let him go anyway. For years he had wondered about the girl and who or what she might have grown up to be and now he knew. She was Max  
  
So why the hell was he fighting her?  
  
Realization came to him, he needed to stop this. He hesitated; she took advantage - kicking him hard, in the gut. He gasped for breath, holding his stomach and stepping back. She backed a way still in soldier mode, waiting for him, ready for a trick or an assault.  
  
"Stop," he gasped.  
  
"Who are you!?!" She yelled  
  
"Max hold on, just listen to me," he gasped again, (damn, that girl can kick.... duh, what did you expect, a hug?)  
  
Max didn't want to wait anymore, she came at him, full force, and ready to knock him out and get the hell out of there. But Logan had gained his breath, and wasn't caught off guard again. He blocked her attack and grabbed her wrists, his grip firm, and pushed her against the nearest solid object - the wall.  
  
"Who the fuck are you?!" Max squirmed, not liking being unable to kick ass and be done with it.  
  
"Just calm down," he said as calmly as a person holding captive a pissed off genetically enhanced super girl could, "I'll let go of you and explain if you calm down and cooperate with me,"  
  
"Let got of me!" she yelled, some secret part of her was panicking, no one could hold her like this, no one.... no normal person could....  
  
"I will," he said "okay, I'll explain everything, just calm down okay?"  
  
She glared at him angrily, she didn't like taking orders, and she especially didn't want to take orders from this guy.  
  
"Let go of me now," she said, her voice dangerously low, sounding almost like a growl.  
  
"Okay," he said quietly, letting go and stepping away quickly. Max rubbed her wrists, eyeing him suspiciously as he moved away from her. He wondered why she hadn't run the moment he let go of her, she wondered as well.  
  
"Just hear me out, okay,"  
  
"Fine," she spat.  
  
"Will you cooperate?" he asked.  
  
"Yeah, whatever,"  
  
She stayed where she was, deciding to listen if only to find out what kind of threat he might pose.  
  
"Okay," he said "I'm going to turn around okay, and I'm going to show you something, alright?"  
  
He looked at her, his hands still up, eyes pleading with her to cooperate. She was standing very straight almost in an attack position but not quite, she would be ready if he tried to pull anything, but still, against her better judgment she nodded. She didn't know why. Maybe it was his eyes. When she looked into them, she felt a little secure and trusting. They were beautiful shade of blue, but she had a sinking feeling that they would cause her trouble. She felt drawn to them, drawn to him.  
  
"Okay" he said quietly to himself as he slowly turned his back to her ("Never turn your back on anyone soldier") The Colonel's voice rang in his ears making him uneasy.  
  
"See that," he said, pointing to the mass of lines on the back of his neck, "barcode - Manticore, just like you."  
  
"But that wasn't there before," she said defiantly. She knew what she had seen. She'd checked the back of his neck; it had been clean - not even a freckle, let alone a barcode.  
  
He took something out of his pocket and threw it back to her. She caught it, effortlessly; it was a round tin can and on lid there was a yellow label, with bright purple lettering on it.  
  
"Madam Ramona's Instant Skin Imperfection Concealer?" she read, slightly amused.  
  
"Good stuff, stays on all day, doesn't sting or burn or anything, it's even waterproof. When I have people over I tend to use it, the last thing I need it someone seeing the damn barcode and telling someone."  
  
"So how come you're not wearing it now, you got plenty of people over," She looked up from the can, and saw that he was facing her now.  
  
"I've a lot on my mind lately, I never got around to it," he smirked  
  
"Okay fine, you're another fucked up lab rat from Manticore, hooray for you. How do I know that while I'm standing here, wasting my time, talking to you, that Lydecker isn't in a van on street waiting for you to drag me down to him," she didn't return the smirk, this guy still hadn't given her a reason to trust him.  
  
"Because I've hated him even longer then you have, and for some reason twelve years ago you let this fucked up lab rat climb over that fence to freedom and I don't think it would be appropriate to turn my liberator over to the man who tested out his torture devices on me when I was five years old to make sure they were working correctly."  
  
(I let him...) realization dawned on Max "Your-"  
  
"X4-320480617569, at your service,"  
  
The designation didn't mean anything to Max, but his comment from before did.  
  
"It's you," she said quietly, almost whispering,  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Her face changed as she looked into its eyes.  
  
"It's you," she whispered.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"It's you," he replied as he had so long ago.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"It's you," it whispered back as 452 got off it and backed away a little - holding her gun up.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
He smirked, "Déjà vu all over again,"  
  
She stared at him in awe. No, this couldn't be him, this couldn't be the scrawny looking boy with long unkempt hair and tattered clothing that she had let climb over the fence back at Manticore. This man was a far cry from that boy; he was tall and muscled, his hair was short and spiky, and he looked healthy and strong. The boy had been sickly and weak..... but boys often grew up, why shouldn't he? His eyes were the same, the same deep blue that had shown so much fear as she held him to the ground waiting for the others to come and take him back to Manticore. Those eyes had gotten her in trouble, when he had escaped the Colonel had punished all the X5's. Now here she was staring at those eyes again and the man that came with them, threatening to get her into trouble again.  
  
"Are you freaking insane," she said suddenly shaking him out of his own observation of how she had changed. Dark, mysterious, beautiful...  
  
"What?" he asked, startled,  
  
"You're Eyes Only? Do you have a death wish or something? We have enough people looking to put us in cages and you decide make enemies with every dumbass with a gun in Seattle."  
  
"Someone has to, why not me?"  
  
"Because one of these days you're going to piss off Lydecker's brother or something and wind up in that cage I mentioned before,"  
  
"I think I can handle myself Max.... but if you're so worried about my health you could always help me,"  
  
"Are you high? I've got people looking to lock me up for the rest of my life, turn me into a science project, or kill me. Probably all three. We both do, in case you haven't noticed. But unlike you, I've managed to drop off the radar screen and I plan to keep it that way." If he wanted to get himself killed that was fine with her, but she wasn't going to risk her life and her freedom for some stupid cause.  
  
"I could help you; thirteen of Manticore's finest, including us two, have ever escaped from that hell hole. So that means that there are eleven X5's out there, surely you must want to talk to one of them,"  
  
"Eleven...." Max paused she hadn't seen any of her siblings since she had fallen under the ice during the escape, she never found out what happened to them, "I never knew how many of us made it out, we got separated right away,"  
  
"I'll help you find them if you agree to help me," Seeing her bothers and sisters again would be good, but being killed for this guy would be bad. (But he's the X4, he's Logan. Doesn't matter, he's insane, fighting for people who wouldn't give him the time of day if they knew what he really was.)  
  
"I already don't like the sound of this,"  
  
"The woman you met, Lauren? She supervised workers removing cortodiazapine from gel caps by hand and replacing it with powdered sugar. Real drug was shipped out of the country. Placebos were distributed to the county V.A. Hospital and veterans' clinics in the area."  
  
"My pal Theo's on that stuff. You've got him scared silly he's going to die."  
  
"Your friend's got reason to worry. Lauren's prepared to testify that she was working for one of Edgar Sonrisa's managers and I'm sure you're aware of the lengths he'll go to keep her quiet."(Here comes the big finally) "I've arranged to put Lauren into witness protection. If you were to go with her..."  
  
"Oh no you don't, I didn't make it this far by looking for trouble,"  
  
"She's put her life on the line and her faith in me,"  
  
"Her first mistake and yours. I still can't believe you would willingly get yourself caught up in this; the risk of exposure is too high. Doing this is just plain stupid. Besides, you're just as revved up as I am. Why can't you go with her?"  
  
"I could, but this is two man job."  
  
"Get your apeman to do it for you, I've heard enough of this crap, I'm out of here," she pushed past and him and made her way to the front door, deciding it wasn't necessary to crash through a window again, as much as she'd like to, just to piss him off.  
  
Logan sighed as he watched her go. He was disappointed and sad to see her go, because even though he knew he could handle taking care of Lauren and Sophie by himself, but it would have comforting to know that someone as fast and powerful as himself had his back. Or at least that was the reason he made himself believe.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Max rode her bike to work in a daze..... How could so many things go wrong in one night? First all that drama with Logan (dumbass), then Vogelsang turned into a coward and the possibility that manticore was on to her location, and then this morning she found out about Theo.  
  
She couldn't believe it, Theo was dead. He had always been a good friend, he was the one that got her a job at Jam Pony, introduced her to Original Cindy. Some insane part of her wanted to go back to Logan and help him just so that the scumbag responsible for Theo's death could get what he deserved. But Max wasn't that stupid.  
  
She made it to Jam Pony without being hit by any cars, although any mere mortal would have pummeled you'd think the drunk drivers would lay off just a little bit, after all it was only seven in the morning.  
  
"Oh, oh. Lovely of you to join us. Yes, how very lovely." Normal's irritating voice rang out, signifying the beginning of another wonderful freaking day at Jam Pony, "Here, I have a hot run to 842 Beulah. You can tell your pal, Theo, he just got himself fired, all right? Not that he cares, but, you know...his wife and kid might."  
  
She would have ignored him normally, she was used to his of insults, but it wasn't right to talk about Theo like that.  
  
"Theo's dead,"  
  
"Two men are dead and another critically wounded after a shoot-out near the superior court building today." Normal might have tried to say something, but Max didn't hear him, she didn't want to hear his stuttering apologies.  
  
"This dramatic footage was captured by police hover drones," besides the graphic image on the TV screen had caught her attention.  
  
The Jam Pony television old and fuzzy but still the images was clear.  
  
Logan's body guard going down hard.  
  
Lauren running to safety.  
  
Logan grabbing Sophie and running after her.  
  
(You're faster then that you idiot, what are you waiting for, run, go)  
  
And then it happened, there was no sound from the TV - hover drones didn't record sound, but there must have a loud crack right before the bullet pierced Logan's back. Logan stumbled, any normal person would have stopped and fallen to the ground, out for the count, but Logan continued to go, continued to run. Another crack must have rang through the air; another bullet hit him in the back. Logan slowed, but continued to move, continued to try. A bullet ripped through his shoulder, he dropped Sophie. Another hit him in the thigh, he dropped to his knees. Then the final one, another in the back, and he was down on the ground. A faceless man ran across the screen, grabbed Sophie and ran, leaving Logan lying there in his own blood.  
  
The tape ended with the news reporter coming on to the screen, blabbing out the hospital where he was staying. (Great, why don't you just tell the mob boss that did this to him, his room number as well, so that he can finish the job).  
  
No one else in Jam Pony probably even saw how many shots had been fired how many bullets had gone into Logan's body, the tape had been too fast, probably speeded up to spare the public from the gory details. As if they thought public could to be sheltered from dirtiness that surrounded them.  
  
Sketchy's voice cut through the silence.  
  
"Whoa, man did you see that one guy get sh-"  
  
"Shut up" Max cut him off,  
  
"Gotta blaze," she said to no one in particular, getting up and walking over to her bike.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"23 computer hits from one detective browsing Wyoming DMV records from ten years ago. Employment files on health care personnel working in the Gillette area around the same time. He searches prison records for unidentified males and females approximately 18 to 20 years old and you want me to believe its happenstance?" Lydecker glanced over at the two imbeciles sitting across from him. Why were all the people working for him such idiots?  
  
"Since the pulse, there's been how many thousand missing person searches? This could be one of them." Said one of the nameless agents nervously.  
  
"And nothing in those searches connects him with Manticore." The other agent added, as if on cue. Maybe they had rehearsed this little chat before he came into the room, he wouldn't put it past them to do so.  
  
"No. He's trying to track down these kids and we're not going to do anything to get in his way." Lydecker looked back of the photo of a young 452 on the board. For too long he had searched for his kids to no avail, and now he was close to finding one, he could feel it. And nothing, not even his incompetent employees were going to stop him from getting every last one of them back to Manticore.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Max checked the chart at the end of the bed and rolled her eyes in mild annoyance and amusement.  
  
"'Minor guns shot wounds' you know I don't know whether to be relieved or pissed off that you have friends here. I mean, everybody seems to know who you are. You might as well just turn yourself in to Lydecker right now,"  
  
She stared down at his unconscious form in the bed, as she placed the chart back in its place and walked over to the table by the bed. He looked different when he was asleep, not peaceful or innocent or any of that crap, just different. He looked less worn or stressed or something; she couldn't decide what.  
  
(He looks asleep you idiot, stop overanalyzing everything)  
  
She picked up his wallet and plopped down into the chair next to the bed.  
  
"Nurses beat me to it. Can't say I'm surprised," she smirked as she looked up from the wallet.  
  
"Take a header into the deep end when the pool's empty, you're going to go splat. Law of gravity. And even Jesus Christ himself had to obey the law of gravity...for a while, anyway."  
  
She stopped, frowning now, "The one I feel sorry for is the poor woman with the kid. She should have told you to stick it like I did, but she bought your crap about doing what's right. And just so you know, I don't feel the slightest guilt about not watching her back. That's on you hotshot, one hundred percent,"  
  
She got up and walked over to the window, not surprised to see the sniper on the building across the street.  
  
"Your friends in high places can't protect you forever you know. One day your gonna slip up and get yourself and everyone involved with you killed. I probably ought to let him finish the job. Save Lydecker the trouble and save some innocent people from getting killed on account of some cause that doesn't concern them or you."  
  
She sighed and walked over to the bed pulling it away from the wall. Pushing the bed into the hallway Max wondered why she even cared.  
  
"On the other hand, you did lay that statue on me, which I was able to fence for a couple of bucks. I've been wanting to buy myself a new motorcycle. Thinking about stepping up to a 1200."  
  
There was an explosion behind her; Max kept pushing the bed, not fazed in the slightest.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"....The shooter who tried to finish off Logan works for Sonrisa. Surprise, surprise."  
  
Max looked at the mug shot of the man who would have killed Logan if she hadn't come for a little visit, "Bruno Anselmo. Born in 1990, served in Iraq, dishonorable discharge, convicted of armed robbery, assault, assault with a deadly weapon, arson, attempted rape. Your basic Renaissance dirt bag."  
  
"What can we do?" The woman hadn't asked for her husband to die or for her daughter to get kidnapped, or to get involved with this Sonrisa creep in the first place, so against her better judgment Max decided to help her. (You're going soft Max)  
  
She looked up at the women and shrugged "This isn't my regular line of work. I'm making it up as I go,"  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Heads turned as she walked down the stairs into the party; which was nothing new, heads turned when she walked anywhere really.  
  
"Girl you work that dress," someone said, and she smiled. For once getting noticed would be a good thing, it would lead her straight to where she needed to go.  
  
(Cavalry should be here soon) she thought as she glanced up at the camera on the wall.  
  
(That was quick) Bruno Anselmo, the sleaze, in all his glory came up to her.  
  
"Mr. Sonrisa saw you on the camera. He wants you to come see him."  
  
"I'm on Break," she said,  
  
"Guess again,"  
  
He looked her over, took her arm, and as he led her to wherever Sonrisa was, Max held back the urge to throw up. This guy had tried to kill Logan, he was probably the guy that had shot him in the street in the first place, and now he was staring at her like a piece of meat. She decided that this man was going to pay; she would make sure of it.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"...Quite a mouth on a girl so young. My guess is, talking isn't what it does best."  
  
The man who was responsible for theo's death was hitting on her, she felt sick..... and pissed.  
  
"Only way you're ever going to find out is reincarnation. Fact is, I am going to provide a service and, uh...you are going to pay me. You're going to pay me $50,000."  
  
The ass laughed, he wouldn't be laughing in a minute if he kept it up.  
  
"And I'm going to give you Lauren Bragenza,"  
  
That shut him up, it shut everyone up. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
(All too easy) Max thought as she pulled herself out of the pool, as the sound of Bruno's car pulling away was heard in the distance. (wish I hadn't gotten all wet though)  
  
She hurried to the pay phone; there wasn't much time this had to be done quickly.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"This is your punk ass client..."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"You...Stop," Max turned; she didn't know what the hell Lydecker was doing here or why. Despite herself she felt a tremor of fear run through her upon hearing his voice, the soldier inside her almost made her snap at attention when he had called to her.  
  
"Put the girl in my car," relief and disgust ran threw her; she had vowed that she would never take orders from him again, and yet here she was.... It didn't matter; there was no time to think about it. She turned and hurried away from him.  
  
"Tac one, what's your status? Do you have her or not?  
  
"Negative," came their garbled reply, "We do not have the subject. Repeat, we do not have the subject."  
  
Lydecker frowned angrily, as the sound of a motorcycle revving, filled the air.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Max leaned against her motorcycle watching as the Lauren and Sophie embraced.  
  
"Mommy!"  
  
"Sophie!"  
  
For a moment she allowed herself to wonder what it was like, having someone run to you like that. So happy to see you that they forgot about everything, about all the trouble in the world and pain they had suffered through, and to run back to them feeling exactly the same.  
  
But she didn't dwell on those thoughts. Thoughts like that weren't healthy, smart, or safe.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"47 people paying $20,000 each to be smuggled into Canada so they could earn enough money to eat...are dead." (this seems familiar) "They were marched overboard last night by their ruthless handlers who operate with the knowledge, support and active collaboration of government officials only too happy to look the other way for a piece of the action." (too familiar, why am I even here?) "This must never happen again. Those responsible are on notice. Their power and privilege will not protect them." (curiosity?) "They will be held accountable. This has been a streaming freedom video bulletin...via the Eyes Only informant net." (remember what they say about curiosity and that cat)"Peace...out." (I'm smarter then your average cat; let's see how this goes)  
  
"See your back at it. Rocking the boat," He turned; he hadn't heard her come in. He needed to work on that.  
  
"Somebody's got to. What did you expect? A few bullets to take down a genetically engineered Manticore killing machine?" He stood up and took a step closer to her, as she was reminded of how tall he was.  
  
"We're not invincible Logan. I was surprised to find out you weren't dead after..."  
  
"Getting shot in the spine a few times? I've dealt with worse pain." he scowled, (if I wanted to be lectured on my physical limitations, I would have stayed at Manticore with the Colonel, he spared no details when it came to telling me all about how much I couldn't do)  
  
"I'm sorry," she said quietly looking up into his eyes. He looked away.  
  
"There was this woman who took me in once, closest thing I ever had to a mother, she used to say 'The universe is right on schedule. Everything happens the way it's supposed to.'"  
  
"You believe that?"  
  
"I've never been much for trying to figure out why bad things happen. I just know they do and innocent people get caught in the middle of it all and are given the job of figuring out how to deal with the consequences, and they shouldn't have to," He paused thinking for a moment and then looked back at her.  
  
"Why are you here? I wake in the hospital in a not-blown-up-room, hear a few stories from the doctors and Lauren and then nothing, thought maybe you'd left town. And now suddenly, three months later you show up. I know the wait at the check points is a bad but I didn't think they were that terrible."  
  
She shrugged "I would have come sooner but..." she smirked "I didn't."  
  
"So have you decided to help me then?"  
  
"Fat chance, I don't go for that whole Robin Hood, save the innocent crap,"  
  
"You've got a funny way of showing it, keeping Lauren safe, taking that son of a bitch Sonrisa out-"  
  
"-Not me personally-"  
  
"Saving that little girl,"  
  
"It wasn't her fault the world turned to shit."  
  
"Exactly, it wasn't anyone's fault except for some selfish terrorist bastards, and yet people are paying the price and getting hurt, while cops and government officials are being happily paid to look the other way."  
  
"And you still think you can do something to change that?"  
  
"With your help,"  
  
"Look Logan, a friend of mine died on account of Sonrisa, that's all."  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry," She looked up, and once again found herself lost in his gaze. He actually cared.  
  
She looked away "yeah, well, these things happen,"  
  
"They shouldn't," he said quietly. He turned to his desk and picked up a box.  
  
"This is for you," he said, giving her the box, "open it."  
  
She looked inside the box and smirked. Bast, the cat god, back where she belonged, back to cause her trouble.  
  
"Ended up on the black market, somehow."  
  
He smiled, and she looked up and smiled back, "thanks,"  
  
He handed her a file, "Joel Solinski. This guy's got a wife with three kids, an ex-wife with two kids, a mistress, and two girlfriends. The wives get houses, the mistress a condo, and everybody gets a car...all on a harbormaster's salary."  
  
She sighed, "I caught the tail end of your hack. The guy's on the take. He's paid to look the other way while the smugglers deep-six their cargo."  
  
"He's made I fortune, as an accessory to murder,"  
  
Max rolled her eyes, "Okay, so the guy's a beast, doesn't mean I have to get involved. You can keep this," she handed him back the statue, "I really don't have anyplace to put it."  
  
He sighed, looking down at the statue, walking over to a cabinet. "You're involved. By being alive, you're involved."  
  
"Whatever-"  
  
"On another matter," he cut her taking another file out of the cabinet, and looked into it, "federal corrections used to keep records on distinguishing marks. Scars...tattoos. I did a search and came up with this: ID-ed as a Michael Hanover, booked for armed robbery nine years ago, he escaped custody after four hours. Hasn't been seen or heard from since."  
  
Max took the file from his hands, and looked down at the picture paper clipped in the corner.  
  
"Zack," she said quietly  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"But Zack-"  
  
"But nothing, a solder fears nothing, now get back in line."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Zack," he said, "I saw him, he yelled at one of the younger X5's, that time, when you came down," He looked at her remembering how she had stared at him, it had been so long since anyone had looked him in the eye, and there she was staring at him, through him.  
  
Max looked up, remembering the first time she'd ever seen him, well his eyes anyway. She didn't remember Zack yelling at anyone, she remembered seeing him through the bars on small window of his cell. He'd fascinated her, he wasn't scary or ugly like the other nomlies.... he was beautiful.  
  
"He called her Johndy," he said, "I didn't know what it meant, the names they called each other, it had always been numbers before that,"  
  
She shrugged "Zack named us, we didn't question him,"  
  
"He was the C.O.?"  
  
"He was more then that, he was our big brother, he took care of us. Can I keep this?"  
  
"Sure," a brother, he wondered what it was like, having family, to know that they're out there somewhere, maybe even looking for you, "just think about that offer I made before. The quid pro quo, it could work out, for both of us,"  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
I knew it. I always knew Zack was out there somewhere, but you know, just my luck Logan had to be the one to find him. As if my life wasn't crazy enough, now I've got an X4 with delusions of grandeur on my hands. And now he figures I'm going to go and do the right thing because I owe him...like I even care...... still.... it's nice to know..... that I'm not the only one here.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
I wonder if she'll come back. She will, the X5's were a tight group. The way her eyes lit up when she saw that picture of her C.O.... her brother..... you don't give up the chance to find someone that makes your eyes light up like that, at least that's the impression I get from most people. It was nice having her around, even if she was yelling at me for being stupid the whole time.... liked she cared what happened to me.... 


	4. Hot Spell

Okay, so the episode: Heat in my universe – a couple months after the last chapter. We're gonna assume Logan and Max have become more acquainted (but not that acquainted) and are working together on Eyes Only in exchange for the X5 info.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Where's my money!?!" One of the scumbags yelled at one of the other scumbags.  
  
(Like taking candy from a baby – an ugly thieving baby – but a baby nonetheless) Max smirked as she listened to them argue, content to stay where she was, out of sight. The plan had been for both her and Logan to go stake out the boat, but it had seemed like over kill to her and she had wanted to get out so she said she would do it herself. She'd felt a little cagey around him before, she wasn't sure why. They had argued a little, but she won in the end. That was a few days ago – (he's probably getting pissy that I haven't done anything yet) she mused in her hiding place, hearing footsteps suddenly.  
  
"Hey!" Someone too close yelled.  
  
(Damn)  
  
The guard came at her, expecting an easy take down. A young woman, small and weak-looking – should be easy, right? Wrong. Max disposed of him quickly, a few well-place kicks, a punch here and there, and he was down. Looking at him lying on the ground Max allowed herself a look, "Hey, your kinda cute,"  
  
"Nobody rips me off! Where's my money?" she heard them yelling again. Sill rolling her eyes, Max dived off into the water and swam away from the boat as gunfire lighted up its windows.  
  
(Too bad) she thought, looking back at the boat (he was pretty cute)  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"The subject was followed to the Flamingo Lodge Motel where she registered under the name of Anita Orduno. And the subject was then joined by a female Caucasian...uh like 20, uh...mid 20s, late 20s and, uh...she accompanied her into the hotel room for about three...three-and-a-half hours." Vogelsang, droned on to this week's suspicious husband, bored as hell. He'd always though being a private detective would be more exciting... whatever paid the bills.  
  
"Anyway, here's the thing, though. The registration...in the other woman's car...well, it goes back to you, Mr. Meyer. So the answer is: yes, your mistress is stepping out on you...but she's doing it with your wife. I mean, I guess that, you know, could be good news or bad news. I mean, it all depends on whether-"  
  
He stopped, suddenly wishing that being a private detective was significantly less exciting.  
  
"Please, don't stop on my account," Lydecker smirked down at the fat, pathetic excuse for a human being.  
  
Vogelsang hung up the phone, looking up at the man who introduced his fingernails to some pliers a few months ago, fighting the urge to piss himself.  
  
"Mr. Lydecker...she wasn't here." He stammered, "I have...I haven't seen her. I have...I haven't spoken to her since-"  
  
Lydecker's smirk lessened, "Finnish your lunch before it gets cold," the comment was simple enough, but coming from Lydecker it seemed like a death threat – everything Lydecker said sounded like a death trap.  
  
"Oh, please. Please, Mr. Lydecker. I have told you. I have told you everything I know. I swear it." He stuttered again and Lydecker had to fight the urge to laugh at the pitiaful man's weakness,  
  
Lydecker sighed, "It seems so unfair. There you are, drifting along...private investigator running his own Laundromat...and along comes this young lady and asks him to help her find a bunch of kids with bar codes on their necks."  
  
"Please don't hurt me Mr. Lydecker,"  
  
"How are the nails," another treat.  
  
"No Mr. Lydecker"  
  
"Looks like their growing back fine. See? I told ya. Mr. Vogelsang...I want you to be very clear just how important this young girl is to me. I would peel every inch of skin from your body if it would bring me one heartbeat closer to her. I know she's out there. Eventually, she's going to have to come up for air. And when she does...I want to be there."  
  
He turned his back to the man sitting at the desk, walking out.  
  
"Oh, by the way," he stopped, glancing back, his voice dangerously low "It's not mister Lydecker, its Colonel Lydecker."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The Motorcycle sped down the dirty, beat-up Seattle street. The rider was helmet-less, unafraid of collisions or accidents - unafraid of death. With leather gloves and jacket, sunglasses blocking her eyes from the wind that ran through her hair - she looked like the definition of rebellion and toughness.  
  
Gunning the engine, the world around her became a blur. Max smiled as she increased her speed, enjoying one of the few moments in her life when she felt truly free.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Original Cindy licked her lips looking the rider up and down.  
  
"She's spiking a can-can endo. Spank it, sugar. Damn. She's fine." Cindy did enjoy a good looking woman; she always took her time to appreciate the beauty in each one she came upon. Like her girl Max, for example - dark, mysterious, beautiful. Her soulful brown eyes, full lips, unruly curly brown hair, her brilliant smile... when she actually used it...  
  
"She's straight."  
  
... her wonderful attitude...  
  
"Don't be putting salt in my game. I'm not trying to hear that." Max could be a real bitch sometimes, but Original Cindy was used to it, she didn't let it faze her.  
  
"She's all yours. Give me hot boy over there. His friend's kind of working for me, too. And the brother over there in the corner is just breaking my heart." Max was acting strangely tonight, very up close and personal with the boys in the club, which seemed odd to Original Cindy 'cause the usually the men came to her... and she rolled her eyes and blew them off.  
  
"Are you running a fever or something?" Kendra, Max's roommate and fellow heterosexual damn another good one lost to the males, also seemed to notice Max's strange behavior.  
  
"No," Max said tearing her eyes away from a guy with large biceps in a corner.  
  
"You sure? You look flushed." Cindy had noticed that too, her boo seemed too hot and fidgety like she was about to jump something.... or someone.  
  
"Yeah. Why?" Max asked frowning.  
  
"I don't know. You seem..." Kendra stopped searching for a word to describe Max's male-craving behavior.  
  
"What?" Max asked impatient  
  
"Like you've been puddling over every pair of pants that walks in here tonight." Cindy cut in, saying what she had been thinking all night.  
  
"Stop." Max said, indignantly  
  
"You are." Kendra agreed, as Max's gaze diverted to another guy walking past them.  
  
"Hey." She said, her eyes dark, voice low - almost predatory.  
  
"See?" Kendra after the guy kept walking – thank god.  
  
"What? I'm just being friendly 'cause he's cute." Well, something was defiantly up, Max was acting very.... not Max.  
  
"Will somebody correct my eyes? You've been laying out for the boys all night long," she said, deciding to go for brutally honest.  
  
"It's like you're in heat or something." Kendra added. In heat? Yeah that seemed to describe it pretty well. But whatever, if Max wanted to go chasing the boys who were they from stopping her from having a good time.  
  
"But don't trip," Cindy said, "you don't see men down on themselves 'cause they 'bout it. You got an itch? Go scratch."  
  
Sketchy was on the bar now trying to beat her biker chick – (let the fool try, it'll be funny when he lands on his ass)  
  
"Hey." Some idiot sketchy-look-alike came up to Max  
  
"We are talking bitch." She said to the new fool.  
  
"Hang on to your drinks." Kendra smiled looking forward to the carnage.  
  
"Do you come here a lot?" the moron ignored her - whatever Max could take care of herself – it would be funny watching her take this guy apart.  
  
"Yeah. What are you drinking?" Original Cindy's eyebrows shot up as Max actually responded to the new Sketchy.  
  
"Max!" Kendra said, taken by surprise as well.  
  
"I'm scratching, 'kay." Max said, then turned back to the fool – talking to him!  
  
Cindy turned to Kendra, "you're heterosexual. What's up with that?"  
  
"No clue." She said as they heard Max's pager blow up and then saw her take off up the stairs.  
  
(Thank god) Original Cindy thought as she turned to and put an arm around the boy, who was looking at where Max had just been – somewhat dazed  
  
"It was all just a strange and beautiful dream." He nodded in agreement.  
  
(She always runs off fast when that boy pages her...) she mused as the real Sketchy fell off the bar (Wonder what that's all about...)  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Max groaned inwardly as she rode her bike to Logan's penthouse, counting off the months in her head.  
  
(Kendra was right. I am in heat or something like that...all because they spiced up that genetic cocktail called "me" with a dash of feline DNA...so I can jump 15 feet of razor wire and take out a 250-pound linebacker with my thumb and index finger...which makes me an awesome killing machine and a hoot at parties. But it also means that three times a year I'm climbing the walls...looking for some action. Thank God, the worst of it is over...if I can just get through the next 12 hours without doing something I'm going to regret.)  
  
She sped up, her suddenly feeling even less free than usual.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Look, Bling really I'm fine. See, walking around and everything."  
  
Max heard the male voices as she entered the penthouse – she smelt them too... they smelled good.  
  
"Still Logan, a spinal injury is a big, superpowers or not."  
  
"Bling-"  
  
"All I'm asking is you take it easy, be patient, give your body time to heal. Just a little less Eyes Only missions."  
  
"Corruption doesn't stop just because I get shot a couple times,"  
  
"Hey kids, am I interrupting," Max said suddenly, startling them. As much as she loved Testosterone filled arguments – really loved – she wanted to find out what Logan had paged her for and she didn't feel like waiting. She did, however, feel like noticing Logan's well defined arms under his tee- shirt.  
  
"No. You're just in time." Logan said cynically "Bling was about to entertain me with one of my favorite chestnuts, 'the tortoise and the hare'"  
  
Damn she looked good, Logan noted looking her up and down – but then again she always looked good, all the time.  
  
"Maybe he'll listen to you," Bling said as he picked up the bag noticing the exchange between the two, smiling slightly.  
  
"Yeah, right," Max said, her eyes not leaving Logan. Bling watched amused - Oh yeah, they had it bad.  
  
"Good night people," Bling said walking out of room as they both muttered their goodbyes.  
  
Max turned slightly watching Bling leave. He was quite an attractive man as well, he obviously worked out – he was very well built – but for some reason she couldn't stop focusing all her senses on Logan. The way he looked - hair all spiky and cute, scruffy beard, his body – so hard and well defined. She could hear his breathing - harder than usual. She could smell him, his strong male scent. She could feel his eyes on her, even though she was turned away from him.  
  
At this moment he was Manticore's greatest creation, perfect in every way.  
  
Logan felt hot all of a sudden. As he stared at Max he felt as if the temperature in the room had shot up at least twenty degrees. He found himself unable to look away from her – captivated........even more than usual........ He loved the way she looked, her curvy body hugged by her clothes as if they were always a size too small. She was leaning against the door frame, with her hip cocked to the side – a strip a skin showing where her shirt rose up.  
  
Her smell overwhelmed him; it was even more distinct than usual. He had thought he could smell her for a moment while he was arguing with Bling before, but he had dismissed it, too involved in the conversation. But now it hit him, hard – it was, he wasn't really sure – intensified or something. She looked back at him their gazes locked for a moment. They stared into each others eyes, enthralled by the scent and sight of each other – too captivated to speak or move.  
  
Suddenly his computer beeped and he turned walking over to it – snapped out of his trance for a moment.  
  
She sighed and walked into the kitchen, trying to calm herself. (Jesus he looks good... the way he was looking at me.... This can't be good, he's Manticore. Can he sense it or something? Shit, what if I'm giving off Pheromones? I shouldn't have come here, what the hell was I thinking....)  
  
"So," he said, suddenly in the room behind her, "You... take care of those guys we talked about,"  
  
"Oh yeah," she said pulling out her bag and dumping the money in on his table.  
  
He walked over to her looking at the money – or at least trying to.  
  
"It's amazing what happens when you put three dirtbags in a room and money disappears. Tempers flare. Guns are drawn. Three dead dirtbags." She turned to him, smiling – regretting it the next instant as he smiled back, making her insides melt.  
  
"Nicely done," he said looking into her eyes again. She turned quickly fighting the urge to grab him...to do...things  
  
"So what happens to those poor folks who thought they were getting smuggled out of the country to the Promised Land or wherever?"  
  
"Well, they don't get marched overboard ten miles at sea, for one," he joked trying not to stare at her. What was wrong with him? He was having trouble controlling himself around her today. He was usually better about it. Sure, he was attracted to Max, who wouldn't be? But, he generally as a rule he avoided getting involved with people he worked with, and since all he ever did was work he wasn't involved with anyone that often.  
  
"Which is a good thing," Max responded to his comment, rather than his thoughts.  
  
He shrugged "This will at least be partial repayment for what they paid the smugglers. And with Solinski and company deceased I'd say our work is through here." He made himself turn back to his office attempting to control his hormone driven thoughts, and desperately trying to ignore her sent, which was now five times as intense as before.  
  
"Wait, hold on." She said suddenly, pausing in her intent study of his body as she realized something, "What do you have for me on Zack?"  
  
He stopped, mentally groaning, she was really big on finding this Zack guy, but he was a damn hard man to find.  
  
"I'm still developing information," he said, carefully, almost diplomatically.  
  
"Whatever that means," She said, agitated. She was tired of this bullshit, she had done her job – put up with all his Eyes Only crap – and he was still 'developing information', it was starting to piss her off.  
  
"It means when I come up with something substantive, you'll be the first to know." He said, patiently – they'd been through this before, but still he never found a tactful way to tell her that her brother was impossible to find.  
  
"Look I've kept up my end of the bargain by running all these stupid little errands for you," she was ticked, his stupid cause was taking up too much of her time, and her hormones wouldn't let her stop thinking about what she could be doing with her time... with him.  
  
"And I fully intend to keep mine. But incase you don't remember 'Project Manticore' was a covert operation. And if your Zack is a good a solider as you make him out to be, he's going to be hard to find, and it's going to take some time. 'Patience in all things,' right?" God she was hot when she was angry.  
  
"Spare me the lecture. I waited nine years for my brother. Now, if you can help me like you said you could, great. If not, don't waste my time."  
  
"I'm doing my best," he sighed, not in the mood for arguing with her anymore, besides she always won.  
  
"Give me a call when you've got something," she turned, fully intending to storm out while she was still angry with him, before he distracted her again.  
  
"Wait," he said suddenly, reaching out and grabbing her arm.  
  
She turned looking at his hand on her arm, on her skin, his grip firm and powerful. She suddenly remembered the fight they'd had, when they had first met. She remembered how strong he'd been, how fast, how intense. She let her gaze slowly travel up his muscled arm, to his chest, to his mouth, to his eyes. How very intense indeed. 


End file.
